


A Green Seder

by Gelid_illuminant



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Jewish Holidays, M/M, Passover, Plant-based, passover seder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23505613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelid_illuminant/pseuds/Gelid_illuminant
Summary: Crowley challenges Aziraphale to perform Passover without using animal products
Relationships: Aziraphale and Crowley, Crowley and Aziraphale - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	A Green Seder

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Easter & Other Things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493079) by [Davechicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken). 



> Made a few edits after talking to a Jewish person and getting more information. I hope this version is okay!

Ever since Crowley had introduced Aziraphale to the internet, he’d been doing so much reading. He’d learned about memes – though he didn’t understand them. He’d learned never to read the comment section. And he’d been learning about the state of the world. He’d never heard of Global Warming before. Now, it frightened him. Humans had failed in their duty of care to the Earth and her creatures, and now it was dying. Five thousand animals died every second of every day. Trillions in a year. And for what? Greed. Gluttony. Deadly sins. Aziraphale was resolved to end his own contribution, and, to persuade Crowley to do the same. He needed a companion in this endeavour. Of course, Crowley didn’t eat much, but from now on, when he did eat, Aziraphale was determined that he would eat only plants.

And then came the problem of the Passover Seder. The traditional food was…decidedly animal in origin. Aziraphale read through his Bible again and again, searching for answers. What was he going to do about these traditions? The lamb bone itself? The hard-boiled eggs? And what was he going to do about the wine? This would require research. Research into modern foodstuffs. Things he hadn’t tried before. It would be fun, to try out these strange concoctions. Wasn’t that what he had been doing, way back when humans had first begun to cook for pleasure? And he would have Crowley at his side, making snide comments and rude remarks. Just like old times.

**

“Crowley, my dear fellow…”  
“What is it, angel?” They were languishing in Aziraphale’s apartment above the bookshop, drinking wine – which Aziraphale had selected very carefully from a list he found online – and generally ‘palling around’, as the youth would put it. “I…well, will you be observing Passover with me this year?” It had been only a couple of months since their relationship had blossomed into something more intimate. It had happened naturally, after the Apocalypse That Wasn’t. There were still many questions to be answered. Asking Crowley to engage in this ceremony was nothing to be sniffed at. Crowley stared into his glass, swirling its contents lazily. “Doesn’t that take, what, six hours?”  
“I generally do not take quite that long.” Aziraphale answered levelly. Crowley shrugged. “It’s been ages since I’ve done it. Literally. I might as well.”

Aziraphale felt a huge grin spread across his face. This was the most important event of the year, and Crowley wanted to join him in it. It had been a very long time since Aziraphale had been able to do the Passover Seder properly, since he had been doing it alone for so long. This time would be so much better. With Crowley, and with plant-based food products. His grin faded as he contemplated what he had to say next. “There is one other thing. We will not be eating lamb.” He began. Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”  
“We will not be eating any meat, or preparing eggs either. I’m…not sure how, exactly, but…”  
“I bet you can’t.” Crowley gave a sly little snake-like smile. “I bet you can’t even go a day without eating animals, let alone do the Seder.” He leaned back in his chair, seemingly very satisfied with himself. Aziraphale felt himself puffing up with indignation. “I certainly can do it! I am not possessed by human desires, Crowley!”  
“Whatever you say, angel.”

**

And so the night came. The night different to all other nights. The wine was free of gelatin and fish and eggshell as Aziraphale filled up the first cup. He felt Crowley’s eyes on him as he said the Kiddush. Together they drank. It was superb.

The water rippled and splashed as it was poured. Crowley’s hands, so elegant and so soft. Aziraphale felt humbled.

Salt, bitterness. 

Aziraphale, as the leader of the meal, took out the middle matzah from the matzah tosh, and broke it in half. He put one half back in, and wrapped the other half in organic linen. He retreated into the apartment and found a place to hide it. Under the pillow of the bed. Their bed.

It was Crowley who told the Exodus story. He left out some key points, but clearly remembered the bit about the snakes, and got the gist of the story right. Then, together, they recited the plagues, taking a drop of wine and transferring it to the Seder plate – which had beetroot instead of lamb, and chocolate eggs - for each one. They both remembered these clearly.  
“Blood,”

“Frogs,”

“Lice,”

“Flies,”

“Livestock disease,”

“Boils,”

“Hail,”

“Locusts,”

“Darkness,”

“Death of the firstborn,”

They drank again.

Aziraphale spoke the blessing this time as he once again washed both their hands. He spoke another over the matzah. Each of them broke off a piece and ate.

A slice of horseradish each, dipped in charoset, bringing up tears. The bitterness of slavery, the brief moment of sweetness.

Hunger slightly quelled with the Korech. Matzah, charoset, and the horseradish. With the agave-sweetened nuts and fruits, the horseradish wasn’t so bad.

Time for the meal. Kugel, matzo ball soup, yiros made with marinated tofu. It was all delicious. They ate in silence, but occasionally exchanging a smile.

Then Crowley went in search of the afikomen – the matzah that Aziraphale had hidden before. He brought it back with a grin on his face. They each broke off a piece and ate. It was perfect. Aziraphale had made it himself. The holes in the bread, and the stripes from where it had been grilled. He knew what these things meant. He wasn’t sure if Crowley knew.

They drank once more, and opened a door to let Elijah in. 

Crowley didn’t want to sing, but Aziraphale persuaded him to join in on the hymns. They both knew the words, but Crowley pretended that he didn’t.

“L’shana haba-a bi-Y’rushalayim!” 

Crowley stood up and offered his hand to Aziraphale. He was smiling wickedly. “Whenever I used to do this, we’d dance afterwards.” Aziraphale felt his cheeks flush as he took the proffered hand and stood up. He stepped into Crowley’s arms and let him lead as they danced and sang and celebrated the liberation of slaves.

Now, all they had to do was liberate them all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Davechicken for encouraging me to write this! I hope it isn't too preachy, in any way. I recently experienced an early, simplified Passover, and I had a lot of fun, so I thought I'd write this in time for the real thing!


End file.
